


Iron Infidel

by magniloquentChanteuse



Category: Homestuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2018-05-03
Packaged: 2019-05-01 12:45:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14520867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magniloquentChanteuse/pseuds/magniloquentChanteuse
Summary: The Orphaner Dualscar receives a troubling transmission from the Empress regarding a certain mutant rebel.I rediscovered the Colours and Mayhem album the other day and got really inspired by the Iron Infidel track. You should give it a listen: it's the song that's referenced.





	Iron Infidel

The Orphaner was with his kismesis when the message came in.

 

They groaned in unison as the jangling tune rang out over the sound of creaking wood and waves, and Dualscar pushed himself up off the platform. Mindfang, feeling unusually amorous that morning, had lured him there and was sure to be disappointed that he was wandering off, now that they had finally settled down.

 

“Let it go to voicemail,” She crooned, predictably, and the thought was appealing, but untenable.

 

“It’s not a call,” He muttered, running a hand through his somewhat tousled hair. “It’s a message.”

 

“Even better,” He felt her tugging at his arm, but he shook her off and stood, meandering over to the husktop that was strapped down on his desk. Although the sea was relatively calm, this morning, it would be irresponsible not to secure it between uses. “Damnit, Dualscar,” He heard rustling cloth as he sat down in the chair, but he didn’t bother to look over at her. She usually managed to wrap him around her finger, but this was the one thing he had on her: she _hated_ not to be the center of attention.

 

“It’s from the Empress,” He announced, opening the notification, and a curtain of hair brushed over one shoulder as Mindfang leaned in to read over his shoulder.

 

“She can go fuck herself,” Mindfang scoffed, her breath huffing against one fin and making it flutter. “This is _my_ time.”

 

“Hold on,” Dualscar grumbled. There was a video posted into the chat client, followed by the words “you seain this shit?”

 

“Oh,” Mindfang’s voice perked up a little with her interest as she focused on the still frame of the thumbnail. “I’ve seen that. It’s that mutant rebel.”

 

“Mutant rebel?” Dualscar mused aloud, lip curling. He hadn’t heard of this. He spent most of his time at sea, leaving the dirt crawlers to their scrabbling. He wasn’t interested in the goings-on of the lowbloods. But, he supposed, if the Empress was sending him some kind of video, he ought to watch it, his personal feelings aside.

 

He opened the video, waiting impatiently for it to load.

 

The footage was imperial, he was sure: it looked like security cameras posted in a marketplace. There was a riot, it was clear to see, although he couldn’t be sure of what it was about. He didn’t particularly care. Lowbloods slaughtering each other was hardly an uncommon occurrence. It could really be any number of things.  
  
The roar of the crowd was enough to make his fins twitch again, though, and he reached to turn the video down, but Mindfang grabbed his hand.

 

“Hold on,” she urged. “The sound is important. Look, there he is,” Mindfang pointed gleefully, one sharp nail jabbing towards an indistinct figure, who had been handed something.  
  
It became clear what it was when the loudspeaker in the market carried the tinny sound of song into the air. A high tenor, while not exactly stunning, was far from unpleasant to listen to as he sang into the microphone, stepping into the crowd.

 

He would be torn to pieces, Dualscar realized just before he saw what was happening.

 

Around the movement of what must have been the rebel leader, things were stilling. Trolls were stopping to look at him, rather than attacking, and the rage seemed to go out of the crowd in a wave wherever he went.

 

The scene changed, then, flipping slowly through shots as hundreds of voices joined in the song in a voiceover. The rebel leader and an oliveblood, pouring over a large tome. A jadeblood fussing over him. A yellow with his head bent low to hear something the smaller man was saying with a grin spread wide across his face. The rebel leader standing at the head of a crowd, gesticulating wildly, a painfully earnest look on his face. Shots of trolls waving banners with no sign on them. Assembled trolls in a field, as far as the eye could see.

 

It would have been inspiring if it weren’t so damn chilling.

 

“I think it’s some kind of advert the rebels put together,” Mindfang offered as the song reached a swelling peak, the rebel’s voice shining high and bright above the rest of them. “To convert more people, or something.”

 

Dualscar tapped one nail against his chin, considering, but was distracted as another message popped up on his screen.

 

“Somefin’s gotta be done about this”

 

“I suppose it does,” Dualscar agreed aloud, Mindfang humming as she flicked his fin.

 

“Are you going to come back to bed, or not?” He jostled her off his shoulder, then stood.

 

“Might as well.”


End file.
